


Discipline

by purple_flan



Category: Inazuma Eleven GO
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Boss/Employee Relationship, M/M, Old Work, Verbal Humiliation, might change title in the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22546573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_flan/pseuds/purple_flan
Summary: Fic inspired by this tweet here: https://twitter.com/osamushi57/status/514105524711735296 :)
Relationships: Gouenji Shuuya/Senguuji Daigo
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	Discipline

"Toramaru, we need to talk."  
The man turned around in surprise; it had been a long time since his boss had called him by that name.  
"Holy Emperor?".  
"Toramaru, please." Goenji sighed. "Don't call me that way when I don't ask you to."  
"Sorry ... Goenji." Toramaru clapped a hand on his forehead: he would have never gotten used to calling his friend by name again after all the time he had spent referring to him as Ishido Shuji, Holy Emperor and supreme commander of Fifth Sector.  
"Be very careful: it's a delicate thing, and it must absolutely remain between the two of us".  
Goenji looked around, as if to make sure that nobody was nearby. "Is that clear? You know how much I trust you."  
"Yes, Goenji. Is it… is it serious? ”.  
The man looked away. "I do not know. But I have the feeling that it is. "  
Goenji took courage. "It's about Senguuji”.

That name ripped through Toramaru's mind like a lightning strike in a barely cloudy sky.  
"The ... the father or the son?"  
"The father".  
Hearing those words, the boy blanched.  
" Senguuji-sama ?!".  
"Ssh! Toramaru, by God, take it easy! ”.  
The young man tried to silence him; but Toramaru was utterly panicking.  
"What happened? Did he find out about the plan? Please Goenji, tell me he didn't! "  
“Calm down, of course he didn’t. He still knows nothing of the Revolution, and even less about us. Or so I think ...”.  
Poor Toramaru looked at him wide-eyed, a glimpse of consolation in his gaze.  
“But believe me, that's the least of my problems right now. It's a much more ... personal matter. "  
The relief on Toramaru's face vanished all of a sudden.  
"... what do you mean?".  
Goenji ran his fingers through his fair hair, trying to find the right words to finally be able to vent with his dismayed friend.  
"See, he and I ... we've been very close lately. Very, very close. Much more than it is normal".  
"Huh? And what is this supposed to mean? ". Goenji didn't know whether to be amused or frustrated by the boy's ingenuousness: was he really so naive to not understand what he was talking about?  
“Toramaru, listen, I don't want to scare you more than it is necessary. Don't make me explain everything word for word”.  
"What? Scare me? Come on, Goenji! I'm not a child, damn it! Stop keeping me hanging and spit it out!”  
"Toramaru ...".  
"COME ON!".  
Goenji was covered in cold sweat; he felt as if his tongue was going to dry in his mouth for how long he had been trying to come up with a suitable way of telling Toramaru what he would never dare saying to anyone.

"Toramaru ... when you went by my office yesterday, did you see Senguuji come out?"  
"…Yup?".  
"Didn't he seem a little ... tousled to you?"  
"Well, by his standards ... it's the only time I've seen him tying his tie. Ah, and I pointed out to him that his zipper was... ".  
Before he could finish the sentence, Toramaru stopped.  
  
Open. The zip of Senguuji's trousers was **_open_**.

The two looked at each other for endless seconds; Goenji red in the face, Toramaru as pale as a ghost.  
"No ... no, that's not true. It is not true, it is not true, it is not true…! ”.  
"I'm sorry, Toramaru ...".  
"Tell me it's a joke, please!"  
"Do I look like the type to joke about these things?"  
The young man put his head in his hands. "Why ... why didn't you tell me right away?"  
Goenji looked down.  
"I…”.

Just then, the door of the Holy Emperor's office opened. The sound of footsteps distracted the two young men from their conversation; their attention was immediately drawn to the agent in an elegant grey suit, looking at them impassively.  
"Ishido-san, Daigo Senguuji wants to see you."  
Toramaru and Goenji exchanged a long, bewildered stare. Finally, the young blonde took the word.  
"Alright. Tell him that I will be with him immediately. "  
"Right away, sir."  
Toramaru's eyes widened in disbelief. "No, Goenji, don't-".  
" _Silence_ ".  
Hearing that order, Toramaru closed his mouth straightaway. A shiver ran down his spine. Goenji was gone: now, his place had been taken by the cold and severe emperor Ishido Shuji, whose stern gaze was commanding him to be quiet.  
"I know what I'm doing."  
Helpless, the boy watched his friend turn his back on him, ready to head for the man who Toramaru had now learned to fear more than anyone else.

“Senguuji-sama will receive you shortly, Ishido-san. Do you wish for me to assist you?".  
“No, there is no need to. Leave me with him. "  
Goenji tried not to betray the nervousness in his voice; he had the impression of having done a good job, because the agent just bowed submissively and walked away.  
"As you wish, Holy Emperor."  
Goenji was now _truly_ alone, standing in front of the large sliding door hiding Daigo Senguuji's personal office; a door that he had gone through many, too many times.

 _" Shuji?"_  
A mellifluous voice on the other side of the wall called the emperor’s name.  
Goenji was horrified: there was one note, a strange, veiled note in the way that phrase had been said that couldn’t help but evoke an awful feeling in him.  
“Finally, you’re here! Please, come inside. "  
The door slid open, revealing the interior of an office: in the centre of it, a desk, from which a middle-aged man in an elegant white suit observed Goenji with an indecipherable smile on his lips.  
  
"Good morning, Senguuji-sama".  
"Good morning to you, my dear".  
The man raised a hand, gesturing for him to come closer. The boy did not have the courage to lift his face to return the gaze of his eyes, those grey eyes that Goenji would have found attractive, hadn't it been for the freezing cold that pervaded his body whenever he felt them on himself. And that smile ... oh, that damned smile. Goenji had always hated it: as much as he tried to make it look sweet, the one on Senguuji's mouth looked more like a grimace of smug superiority than a lover’s caring smile.  
“You’re pale, Shuji. Is something wrong?".  
"No, sir. I ... I'm fine. "  
Senguuji chuckled behind the hand covering his mouth. “Good for you, I guess. I wish I could say the same for me. "  
Goenji pretended not to understand.  
"Is there something worrying you, sir?"  
Oh, had he never said it: on hearing that question, the grin on Senguuji’s face rapidly morphed into a serious frown, as the man stared at him with a look that could freeze a burning fire.  
“A man of mine saw you entering Toramaru' office a little while ago. And judging from your expression, it seemed that you wanted to talk with him about something very…important. "  
Goenji’s heart missed a beat: just before knocking on the door of Toramaru’s workroom, he had glimpsed the hem of a grey pant sneak behind the wall of a corridor.  
For a single, damned moment, he had forgotten that Daigo Senguuji's men were his eyes and ears, and Fifth Sector’s headquarters had eyes and ears everywhere.  
"Yes, sir. We were discussing ... ". The boy sought for a credible motivation to justify his actions.  
"... Business."  
The man smirked again, that smirk that terrified Goenji and all his other employees even more than his stern scowls.  
"Business, huh?"  
Goenji cursed himself: he had really been a fool to think that his words would have been enough to convince Senguuji.  
" Ishido-san, you ... trust Toramaru, don't you?"  
The young man fell silent, tormenting himself on what would have been the right answer to give: eventually, he decided that it would have been best not to contradict a man who, no matter how detestable, was still his superior.  
"Yes, I do. I don't see a good reason why I shouldn't trust my most loyal colleague. "  
For the first time, Goenji looked up at Senguuji, hoping to catch a glimpse of complacency on his face; unfortunately for him, the expression that met his eyes was far from reassuring.  
  
Daigo seemed to be about to burst out laughing, his mouth twisted into a sneer that the hand with which he was trying to cover it could barely hide and a muffled, mocking chuckle coming out from his throat.  
"Ah ah ah! _Colleague_? Is that what you call your subordinates, Shuji-san? "  
Goenji looked at him, bewildered.  
"Don't be afraid, there is nothing wrong with respecting your ...". His voice broke into another chortle.  
"... colleagues. Personally, I simply prefer to use a more _appropriate_ name for those like him. Do you know what it is? "  
The man returned Goenji's gaze, the usual evil smirk printed on his lips.  
" _Servants_. That’s what Toramaru is: one of your servants, one who does nothing but follow your orders every time he’s asked to. He does not think with his head: he _acts_ , and that's it. And so does Saginuma, so does Kuroki, and so do all the other men at your service. "  
That speech was making Goenji’s blood boil. If only he could, he would have _loved_ to choke him: what did he know about what it meant to have a friend? Someone like him, a tyrant unable to care for anything else but for his own goals and only good at manipulating, exploiting others for his own profit... and _pleasure_ , how could he understand the affection he felt for Toramaru?  
Senguuji ignored the angry glares Goenji was throwing at him, merely giving him another haughty sneer.  
"You, on the other hand... you are _different_ , aren't you?"  
That question sharply diverted the young man from his thoughts. What ... what was he trying to insinuate?  
"I…".  
Senguuji got up from his chair, extending his arm towards Goenji: before the young man even had a chance to back off, he grabbed his jaw, raising his face towards his own. Goenji shivered: Senguuji's fingers were cold as ice.  
“Your beautiful little brain has always fascinated me, Shuji, just as much as your face. If only you knew how to use them for more ... _constructive_ purposes ".  
He started stroking his hair, staring at him like a father does with his children when he's trying to get them to confess a prank.  
“Tell me, my dear, did you really think that, just because you are the Holy Emperor, I would have left you do anything you pleased? Did you think you just could blurt out our secret to your servants because you _trust_ them?” The tone of his voice became even more poisonous.  
“ _Did you really think you could fool me so easily?_ Go on, admit it. "  
"You…you don’t know what you’re talking about”. Goenji tried to seem as unemotional as possible, despite the fact that his voice was barely coming out of his throat; but the only result of his pathetic attempt was Senguuji’s sarcastic laughter.  
"Oh oh, oh my ... first you were a traitor, and now you’re a liar too, huh?"  
" Senguuji-sama, I swear to you that I have never done anything like this."  
The man tilted his head, surprised by the resilience with which the Holy Emperor was opposing his accusations. After all, it was his rebellious temperament that had made him fall so _hopelessly_ for him…  
"I wonder how such false words could come out of such graceful lips."  
Goenji did not have time to react: without giving him even a moment to understand what was about to happen, Daigo pulled him close, clasping him in his arms; and before he could wriggle out of his grip, he forced his mouth upon the boy’s.

The young man felt as if he was about to die: the man's lips were as hot as the hands groping his body in search of a button to unfasten, a zipper to open were icy. He felt nauseous: his instinct shouted at him to return that kiss, to give Senguuji what he wanted: everything, just to free himself. Yet, he still had far too much pride to surrender to the perversions of his tormentor.  
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the man broke his lips apart from Goenji's, staring at him in lecherous satisfaction.  
"Mh, they are still as soft as I remembered them ...".  
Red in the face, Goenji glared at him, disgusted: by now, he had lost any little patience he had left.  
  
" _Take your hands off me._ "  
Senguuji backed off, stunned. "Excuse me?"  
"You heard me: take your hands off- **AH**!".  
  
The violent impact of his head against the solid wood table broke his sentence in half: one excruciating twinge blurred the boy's sight for a moment.  
Above him, Senguuji kept one hand pressed against Goenji's temple, his face twisted in a furious grimace.  
"You ungrateful little bitch”, he growled. "I have served you for years, and _this_ is your thanks?!".  
Goenji gritted his teeth: though weakened by the throbbing pain, deep in his heart there still was a tiny pinch of that determination that in all those years had never abandoned him. There was one thing he still had the courage to wish: that after that he would not have submitted to Senguuji ever again.  
But oh, how hard it was to even _dare_ hoping in such an helpless situation?  
"Take off your clothes".  
"No…".  
"NOW!"  
"NO!"  
The second collision was even more violent than the first. Goenji barely stopped himself from screaming in pain: the knot of tears that was forming in his throat stifled any sound he tried to get out. The boy could almost sense a huge bruise slowly expanding on his right cheekbone; at least, he hoped it was a bruise.  
“Maybe something is not clear to you, brat: it is only thanks to me that you have gone as far as you have up to now. _I_ made you who you are, and _I_ can **_ruin_** you. "  
Goenji felt his hair being violently pulled back; in an instant, he found himself staring right into the large window behind the office desk, from which two faces returned his gaze: behind him, Senguuji’s, distorted by anger, his icy eyes planted in those of Goenji's reflection; and then his own, spoilt by the tears that were now falling uncontrollably down his aching cheeks.  
"Look at yourself. See how I can ruin your pretty face?".  
That vision demolished any security Goenji had attempted to defend: the boy fell forward, his face hidden in his hands as he burst into sobs.  
Senguuji stared at him, irritated. “Stop it, _right now_. Your whining is only going to make me even madder".  
But Goenji was too deeply absorbed in his emotions to even try to answer him: the boy's weeping couldn’t be stopped by any command. Resigned, the man sighed and leaned towards him, approaching his mouth to the young man's ear.  
"Come on ...". His tone had returned to being the calm and almost paternal one it had always been: every traces of the fury that had poisoned his words so far seemed to have disappeared.  
"You know that I would much prefer not to treat you this way, but sometimes your attitude really makes me lose my temper. After all, it is important that an emperor knows how to respect his own collaborators, if he wants to be respected in turn… am I not right, my dearest? ”.  
Senguuji placed a tender kiss on Goenji's neck, his arms wrapped around his waist.  
“But I think you've already learned your lesson. Let's make peace now”.  
A wicked smirk reappeared on his lips.  
"... in my own way ".  
Goenji's cheeks turned red again, his eyes closed in shame while Senguuji’s nimble fingers unfastened the buckle of his belt.

***

  
"So?".  
The man looked away from the mirror in front of which he was rearranging his clothes: from above, he observed the blond boy still kneeling in front of his desk, his head bowed and pants down.  
He smiled sideways: he could barely conceal how gratifying that humiliating spectacle was to him.  
"Can't you stand still?"  
Goenji did not dare turning around: he did not want that asshole to enjoy seeing his eyes reddened from his tears.  
"I... my legs hurt," he muttered.  
"Oh". Senguuji gave him a fake compassionate smile. "I'm sorry. Here, let me help you. "  
Bending over him, Senguuji took Goenji from under his armpits and gradually began to lift him; the man struggled to suppress his pleasure when, suddenly feeling himself being pulled upwards, the boy moaned in a low voice.  
Once he had a firm grip, Daigo rearranged him on the unsteady legs, still girding his waist with his arms.  
"Is it better now?"  
No. It wasn't any better. Goenji's knees could barely hold him and, if it hadn’t been for Senguuji's arms around his hips, he would have brusquely fallen back on the ground. But the worst part was the pain: no matter how hard he tried to ignore it and cover his own lower parts by pulling the hem of his shirt over them, something in the back of his pelvis continued to pulsate and quiver incessantly, each time more painfully than the previous one. But after all, why would Daigo care about it?  
"Y-yes ... t-thank you ...".  
"Very well. Come on, get dressed: I don't have all day. "  
Goenji didn't protest; it didn't make sense anymore. He bit his lip, doing his best not to fall back to the floor when he bent over to pull up his pants. As he fastened the buttons of his shirt, he could sense Senguuji watching over his every minimal movement.  
"What a good boy…". Daigo ruffled his hair with one hand, almost playfully. "Now help me adjust my tie ”.  
The young man's hands continued to tremble as he carefully folded the fabric, his eyes fixed on his battered face reflected in the mirror behind them; Goenji didn't stop praying even for a moment that the man wouldn’t have noticed.  
Once finished, Senguuji turned around to admire the result: a satisfied smile furrowed his lips.  
"Very good. Great job, Shuji-san" He chuckled, before placing a last kiss on Goenji's head; a kiss that for the blonde was even more humiliating than a slap to the face.  
"I think ... I think I should go now" said the young man shyly.  
Senguuji chuckled, sardonic. "Looking like that?".  
Goenji looked down, bringing a hand to his cheek.  
"Well...".  
Daigo gave him a condescending look. “Do as you wish. After all, you are certainly not naive, isn't that so? "  
Goenji twisted his mouth: the subtle flattery in that tone of voice was making his stomach turn.  
"Of course not, sir."  
“I advise you to come out from the back of my office, Shuji: you certainly don't want to be seen by your _colleagues_ in these conditions ... go to the infirmary and ask for ice. If you want, I can order you a coffee to get you back on track. "  
"I-It is not necessary, sir ... now, I just want to rest. If you excuse me ... ".  
He turned his back to the man, ready to walk out of his prison once and for all: but all of a sudden, he felt his wrist being constricted in a familiar lock.  
"Ah ...". Senguuji's serious voice called him from behind. “One last thing, before you leave. You didn’t forget what we said about _respect_ , did you? "  
The boy turned around, confused: however, his doubts dissipated in an instant when Senguuji held out one arm, his hand a few inches away from Goenji's lips.  
" _Kiss it_ ".  
For the last time, the Holy Emperor obeyed to his orders: with his head down, he grabbed the hand that until recently had beaten him, wounded him, tortured him mercilessly and, lifting it to his mouth, devoutly kissed its back.  
"Excellent, my dear ... you seem to have understood who is in charge here."  
He put his lips to his ear, smiling mischievously.  
"But next time it won’t just be my hand that you'll kiss, my sweet Shuji."  
A shiver ran down Goenji's back as the two finally separated.  
Pale in the face, the young man headed for the door hidden by the curtains behind Senguuji’s desk: without the courage to look back, he opened it; and, once repaired by the dim light from the long narrow corridor that connected the office to the rest of the complex, he fled.

  
  
He ran and ran, trying in vain to ignore the excruciating pain that pervaded his lower limbs. His laboured breath stifled his tears, the patter of his footsteps the frantic beat of his heart; his panicked mind made him wander aimlessly, in the hope that nobody would have noticed the degrading sight that was the Holy Emperor with his clothes ragged and his face disfigured by bruises and tears, lost and alone in what had been his palace until that morning. His distress was so great that he didn't notice the figure coming in his direction until he bumped into it.  
The violent impact nearly threw them both to the ground, but the clasp of two hands on his shoulders saved Goenji from yet another ruinous fall.  
"W-what ...". The boy looked straight ahead, and suppressed a little cry of terror when his eyes crossed the white jacket of the person who was supporting him; but when he looked up, his fear was slightly calmed by the sight of two black irises who looked at him anxiously.  
  
"T ... Toramaru ...".  
"Goenji?".  
  
Toramaru leaned over his friend, horrified by the sight of his face.  
"Goenji ... what happened to you ?! What ... what did they do to you? "  
"No ... it's nothing ... I ...".  
The dark-haired man gritted his teeth, furious.  
"It was him, wasn't it?"  
"Toramaru ... please, don't ... don't ...". Goenji looked at him from behind the veil of tears clouding his eyes.  
"You cannot understand. You are only a servant ... a servant ... ".  
He could not finish the sentence: the sobs had the upper hand over his words as he sank his head in Toramaru's shoulder. The boy did not insist: he merely held his friend in his arms, letting him vent his despair in a long cry. And as Goenji's anguished screams echoed in the corridor, the pain in Toramaru’s heart slowly made way for a much stronger feeling: with eyes full of hate, he glanced at the grey figure who, silent as a shadow, peered at them in the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> Fic inspired by this tweet here: https://twitter.com/osamushi57/status/514105524711735296 :)


End file.
